


Of Course Of Course

by sayasamax3



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Genderqueer Character, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3160004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayasamax3/pseuds/sayasamax3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princen Izumi takes time out of their busy schedule to talk to the two most important Hamadas in their life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Course Of Course

**Author's Note:**

> Please note Izumi is genderqueer here, using they/their pronouns :D

Izumi thinks they’re well suited to being a bastard. 

Though, they think they’d be better suited to the whole thing if they didn’t also happen to be their father’s only heir. 

Especially when that father is the King. 

“Seriously,” they say to their horse, who is without a doubt one of, if not  _the_  best listener around, “I get all the shit that comes with being a bastard, and none of the perks.  Kinda sucks.”

The rustling of hay is the only thing that precedes the words, “Still singing that old tune?” but it’s about all that Izumi needs.

“Shut up, can’t you see I’m talking to the smart Hamada right now?” Izumi responds without heat.  Something like a small grin tugs the corners of their mouth up as they watch Hamada-the-human rise from a pile of hay.  Bits and pieces of it are still stuck in his hair, and Izumi does Hamada the honor of taking a few out, before dropping them into Hamada-the-horse’s stall.

“Yeah well, this Hamada doesn’t appreciate waking up to your whining,” Hamada says, though his downright  _peppy_  smile betrays him entirely. 

“ _This_  Hamada,” Izumi repeats, pressing their forefinger to the center of Hamada’s chest, “Shouldn’t be napping in the middle of the day anyway.”

Hamada grabs Izumi’s hand and meets no resistance when he pulls it away from his chest, then slides his palm into place over Izumi’s own and lets their fingers intertwine.

“What are you gonna do?” He asks, when Izumi doesn’t move to pull away; they’re in the mood for games right now, “You gonna tell the king on me?”

“Maybe,” Izumi replies, following the light tug on his arm, “Though I don’t think he’d care much.  Best I take care of your bad behavior myself—show some initiative, you know.”

Hamada reels back from Izumi with just a touch more drama than is strictly necessary, but not enough to make their hands falls apart. 

“Initiative?” He repeats, “My princen, show  _initiative?_  Never.  Who are you and what have you done with Izumi?”

Izumi steps in just close enough to shove Hamada’s shoulder, half-laughing “Rude” as they do so.

“Kidding, kidding,” Hamada says, hooking his free arm around Izumi’s waist, bringing them in close enough to hear his murmured praises.

“I know you work diligently at your studies,” Hamada whispers, as he begins to rock on his feet, like he’s about to lead them in a dance, though the ‘music’ on offer in the stables is certainly beneath mention, “And I know you do your duties well, and put up with all sorts of insults at court.”

They do start to dance then, Hamada leading and Izumi following because that’s how it’s always been, because when Izumi taught Hamada to dance they taught Hamada to lead, they hate leading and Hamada is kind enough to take that burden from Izumi every once in a while.

“You’re a very, very good princen.   _And_  you show plenty of initiative already,” Hamada finishes, and Izumi sort of wants to disappear into a thousand specks of warm light, but settles for ducking their head in an attempt to hide their face.

“Jerk,” Izumi mutters, “Why’d you have to get all mushy on me?”

Hamada shrugs, “Seemed like you needed to hear it—even rich little princens have it tough, or so I’ve been told.  Or, well, so I overheard you telling the horse.  Still can’t believe you named a horse after me, by the way.”

 “You share a likeness,” Izumi shoots off before they can help it.  Then amends, “Uh, but thanks. You know, for trying to cheer me up. Even though I named a horse after you.”

They’ve gone back to just swaying in place now, and Hamada drags one hand up Izumi’s back to ruffle their hair, “You could name a whole team of horses after me, and I’d still want to make you happy.”


End file.
